Behind Bars
by OnTheWildside
Summary: Multi-part "one-shot" of pure, unadulterated Mac smut I wrote based off of a prompt by imagineflandus on tumblr. Definitely Mac in all his rapey, murderous glory. Rated M for the sexually frustrated. Cover the eyes and ears of small children.
1. Behind Bars

**This is inspired by a prompt I saw a few days ago by imagineflandus on tumblr.**

_Imagine… a night of drinking and bad decisions land you alone in a holding cell with a very horny Mac._

**As always with my Mac fiction, I'd like to specify that this contains language, abuse, violence, and illicit sex acts. Viewer discretion is advised.**

**I hope you all thoroughly enjoy this as much as I did. If you make it to the end, please leave a review letting me know what you think!**

* * *

"You have to get down! The bar tender is staring daggers at you!" Her friend said, tugging her arm and trying to pull her off the counter. She had had one too many shots of Southern Comfort and was feeling a little too loose and free. Her top was unbuttoned and she was swaying to the last few lines of an eighties country song that she barely knew. The jukebox in the old bar was no where near up to date.

She ignored her friends pleas and pulled herself back up, swaying her hips as the music changed to a more upbeat tune. She ran her hands down her breasts and along her toned, bare stomach. Her deft fingers found the button to her pants and she worked aptly at the button and zipper of her jeans.

The music suddenly stopped and she stilled in place. "Miss? You're gonna have to get down." She looked down her nose and found herself looking down at a young man in uniform. "Now I'm askin' nicely. Could you please g-g-get down?"

"Why you gotta ruin my good time?" She slurred, slapping his hand away from her pants leg.

"Officer, I'm sorry. She's not usually like this. We're on Spring Break and she's just letting off some steam. Her boyfriend broke up with her and she's just having a rough time." Her friend explained.

She flopped down on the counter, her ass hitting the polished oak and her legs dangling off the side. "Yeah, officer. I'm just having a rough time. Maybe you could be having one as well?"

"I think that's enough, miss. Let's get your clothes straight and get you on your way." The officer said calmly, taking her hand and trying to help her down.

She managed to plant her feet on the floor, but she had a hard time standing up straight. She pushed the man in uniform firmly backwards. "Get your fucking hands off me you honky pig!"

"Hey, calm down!" Her friend tried to steady her, grabbing her arms and pulling her back.

"That's it! I think we should give you some time to cool off." The officer said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs and wrestling her wrists away from her friends grip.

"I haven't done anything! You can't do this!" She squealed when she heard the metal click into place, her wrists now bound tightly behind her back.

"Now wait!" Her friend pleaded. "I can take her to the motel and get her sobered up. Is all this really necessary Officer...?"

"Morgan. Officer Harley Morgan." He pulled the girl up, standing behind her, ready to lead her out the door. "She insulted an officer of the law, miss. She will be released once she's sobered in the morning. Until then, she's not your problem." He looked over the bar to the old Mexican bartender. "Sorry about all this, Walter."

The man stared back, nodding his appreciation.

Harley carried the girl out the door as she kicked and screamed until her throat was raw and her muscles ached. He put her in the back of his squad car and wasted no time rushing to the police station.

She had calmed down some, wearing herself out with her earlier assaults. He was able to lead her calmly into the holding cell, pushing her to the wall and undoing the hand cuffs. She rubbed her raw wrists and sat on the bench against the wall, now stunned into silence.

"You can come out in the morning once you sober up and apologize." He explained as he locked the gate to the cell. She curled her legs up to her chest and leaned her head back on the concrete wall.

* * *

"Now you know better than to threaten me, Mac. Your old man's gonna be real upset when I tell him what you did."

"Like he gives a shit. Do what you have ta do, but don't expect to make it through the night." The voice was rough and dripping in pain and pure sex. It gave her the chills and she sat up straight, causing herself a bit of a headache.

She saw him right away, the dirt and grease that lightly coated his skin did little to hide the handsome face, chiseled cheekbones, the mole above his lip. Those eyes. Clear vibrant blue that made her wobbly knees weak and sent strong shockwaves pooling to the swelling sweet spot between her thighs. Their eyes locked and he gave her a sinister grin, showing off his blackened teeth.

"Who's this?" The older officer asked Harley who was sitting at the desk.

"College girl. Picked her up at the Luna Mesa. Just needs to sober up before morning." He looked over to the man in handcuffs. "What he do this time?"

"Broke down on the side of the road. I found him taking apart the engine, piece by piece. I stopped to help and he flipped out."

"He's obviously high right now."

"Yeah, what's so obvious, Officer Dipshit?" Mac snorted, which landed him a swift kick in the ribs.

"We don't have another cell. Is it safe to put him in there?" Harley asked, showing genuine concern.

"Watch him. I'll be back in an hour or so. He'll behave, right Mac?"

"Oh, I'll be on my best behavior." He smirked, looking directly at the girl in the cell. He licked his lips as he saw inch by inch of her smooth, tanned skin. Her stomach was still exposed as she hadn't bothered to do the buttons on her shirt.

The key clicked in the lock and they shoved the man inside the cell. He flew into the cement wall and they unlocked his hand cuffs, pressing his shoulders into the wall as they did so. "We're watching you. One false move and you're dead, Mac. Bare that in mind." Harley warned before they stepped back and locked the iron gate.

* * *

"Think he's out for the night." The 'Mac' character chortled. He of course meant Harley, who was behind the desk snoring. He had leaned back all the way in the desk chair and had his filthy boots on the paper work he was supposed to be filing. "Ye always walk around with yer shirt wide open, sweetheart?"

She blushed, letting her feet down and working on redoing all the buttons, starting at bottom of her blouse.

"Jus' askin' fer trouble." He practically purred. He grabbed her wrists and stopped her motions. "S'wrong? Cat got yer tongue?"

"How about you take your hands off of me?" She managed, her voice raspy and thick. She pulled her hands out of his grip but he only countered her actions with another attack.

This time he gripped her shoulders and pressed her back in the bench. "Ye like the attention, huh? Little drunk college girl ain't get enough attention growin' up. Prolly got daddy issues 'r somethin'. Jus' beggin' fer someone ta make ye feel, huh?"

"You don't know me, Hoss." She tried to shake him off, only causing him to further his grip. Her skin and the tips of his thick fingers turned white from the pressure.

"Yer gonna regret ye said that." He sneered. Before she could speak, his lips were on his. It was a potent cocktail of whiskey and cigarettes with a bitter taste she couldn't quite pinpoint and the sickening taste of decay and rot in his blackened teeth. All she could smell was the musky scent of man mixed with grease. It was intoxicating, and in her inebriated state, she found it hard to say no. Her desire pooled between her legs and she was whimpering at his touch before he even found the clasp of her bra.

One of his hands clamped around her throat as he worked her blouse over her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground of the cell. Her bra straps fell easily after that and he clamped his teeth onto a nipple, pulling gently and causing her to arch her back into his touch, allowing him full access to her chest. The asphyxiation made her light headed, the alcohol made her dizzy, and she found herself allowing herself to fall to the mercy of this demon of a man she was exposed to.

"Up." He growled. She managed to follow instruction and he worked on her jeans, pushing them to her ankles. Her panties followed close behind. "I'mma show you how a real man does it."

"Just fuck me already." She groaned, her voice thick with lust.

He pushed her backwards until her back slammed into the gate of the holding cell. He gripped her throat tightly, using his free hand to grab her wrists and hold them high over her head. His mouth once again found her perky little breast, ravaging her dusky pink nipples, already hard and tight to his touch. He groaned in approval.

He knelt down, never loosening his grip just enough to place bite along her rib cage and stomach. From that angle he could smell her arousal, practically dripping down her thighs. His dick was raging, digging into his zipper and itching to be buried deep inside of her. He spun her around quickly, her face fell between two of the cold metal bars and she moaned, arching her backside against the large bulge in his pants and releasing a bit of the pressure for him. He placed her hands on two of the bars and gripped onto them with out question.

He grabbed his belt and worked it open. He ripped it from the loops on his pants and snapped the worn leather against her lush ass cheeks. She squealed, shaking her ass for him and wiggling her rounded hips. Her cheeks turned red before his eyes and he bit his lip. He couldn't wait much longer. He ripped his jeans open and his enormous hard-on flopped out and the tip barely touched her perky little ass cheek. She moaned, grinding backwards, not loosening her grip on the bars. He growled, wrapping his arms around the girls middle and pulled her back flush with his chest. The head of his cock ground between her ass cheeks and he lifted her slightly, aligning their hips until he was grinding between her wet folds, rubbing against her clit and grinding towards her tight little opening. His lips were against her ear. "Tell me whatcha want."

"You." She moaned. "Get inside of me."

He clamped his teeth down on the spot where her shoulder met her neck and grunted as she screamed in pain mixed with pleasure. With a quick thrust, he slid right home, plunging his cock into her clenching, hot pussy. "Shit." She moaned.

He ran his hands up and down her sides, roaming from the pelvic bones protruding from her feminine hips to the perky breasts that bounced and swayed as he pulled her back onto his thick member. He pinched her nipples and bit his lower lip as she ground her ass onto his groin, deepening his thrusts and furthering their pleasure. Her hands never left the prison bars and she was worried her face might have linear bruises in the morning, but in her drunken, sex-crazed state, she couldn't seem to care. She was painfully aware that their captor may wake up at any moment, and boy would he get an eyeful when he did. She tried to control her composure, but Mac was hitting spots inside of her that she never knew she had, places no one was ever big enough or talented enough to discover. "My God, don't fucking stop! Don't you dare fucking stop!" She managed, her throat still aching. "Harder!"

"Dirty fuckin' cunt. Yer gonna make me love you." He growled into her ear, taking the soft lobe between his teeth and biting down. He grabbed her clit between two fingers and began yanking and massaging. "Whose nasty little slut are ye?"

"Yours." She whimpered. "I'm all yours."

He grinned, all too pleased with himself. "Beg fer it, sweetheart."

"Please." She pleaded, a sweet, sad sound that made Mac even harder, if that was at all possible. He pulled back, withdrawing himself all the way out before plunging deep inside of her in one quick motion. His balls smacked against her tight little pussy as she came, fast and hard. Her muscles clenched around his throbbing cock and milked him dry. There was no escape. The noises they made were reminiscent of mating lions. She jerked against him a few more times before he managed to withdraw his flaccid dick. She spun around and grabbed his neck, pulling his mouth to hers and roaming his mouth with her tongue.

"Harley! Shifts up!" The sheriff shouted. He rounded the corner and promptly covered his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Mac! This is how you spend confinement?"


	2. Pressing Charges

**I thought that this story was over when I posted the first part but then I sat down to work on **_**Finding Solace**_** and **_**Game Set Match**_** and I couldn't stop thinking about this one-shot. I got multiple requests for more chapters and I felt compelled to acquiesce if I could. I'm shooting for three parts. **

**Thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed, mostly my faithfuls, and then the multitudes of lurkers that read part one. I'm so glad I'm not the only psychopath out there. **

**As always with my Mac fiction, this is not planned to have a happy ending. Don't expect them to ride off into the sunset together. I like to keep Mac as true to character as possible, and I just can't imagine him in that type of situation. **

**I hate to repeat myself, but I feel compelled to warn everyone that this contains language, drug and alcohol use, physical and mental abuse, violence, and illicit sex acts of a graphic and mature nature. Read at your own risk. **

* * *

The girl's cheeks flushed scarlet red and she slunk to the floor, grabbing up her clothes and using them like a blanket as she cowered on the floor of the holding cell.

"Jesus Christ, Harley! Get your ass up!" Sheriff Pratt chastised his deputy, smacking his dusty boots and causing him to almost fall out of the office chair. "Can't even do your damn job!"

"Well shit, Sheriff. How was I supposed to know that would happen? Fuckin' told you it was a bad idea to lock them up together in the first place."

"You were supposed to be alert and watching them." Sheriff Pratt spat at Harley, grabbing the keys up from the desk and unlocking the cell door, and grabbing a set of shackles off of the wall. "Turn around with your hands on your head, Mac. We're not taking anymore chances with you."

"Shouldn't have in the first place." Harley mocked quietly.

Pratt ignored the deputy and proceeded to lock Mac's wrists and ankles in the shackles and led him out of the room. "Can you actually watch him this time?" He asked Officer Morgan, handing him the chain. His deputy nodded and the large, rounded man knelt before the delicate, whimpering creature on the floor before him. "Miss, would you like to file assault charges?"

Her big doe eyes glanced up at him, damp and dripping with tears, more from embarrassment than anything else. "I don't think so." She whispered, looking over to Mac, now glaring at her from the hard wooden chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"It was consensual?" Pratt asked in astonishment.

Her head was swimming. She was still very much intoxicated, still a little dizzy. She was completely naked on the floor of a jail cell in front of three total strangers, one of which had just had amazing, rough sex with her. Try as she might, she didn't remember saying no or pushing him away. "I didn't ask him to stop."

The sheriff looked back and forth between the dainty little girl and the dark and devious drug addict. He couldn't connect the dots, but if the girl didn't want to press charges, there wasn't much he could do. "I'll let you get dressed, sweetheart. We'll call your friend and tell her to come and get you. I think you've learned your lesson by now, right?" She nodded, staggering to stand. The bulky sheriff pulled his thick black jacket off and hung it on the girl's shoulders, covering her backside and escorting her to the rest room down the hall. "Lock him up for the rest of the night. Walter said he'd come in the morning." The sheriff said, handing Harley the keys. "The shackles don't come off."

* * *

"Oh my God! Look at you!" Her friend rushed to her side. Her clothes were disheveled, tears made her mascara run in haphazard streaks down her rosy cheeks. Most of her foundation was rubbed off and was probably stuck in patches in Mac's goatee. Her lips were pink, swollen from Mac's oral assault. Her hair was sex tousled, the curls from earlier that night had long fallen into light waves that still managed to frame her face. "Still think she was better off coming here?" She yelled, looking directly at Harley. The young deputy looked ashamedly at his feet before the girl turned back to her trembling friend. "We can press charges. He won't ever do it again." She brushed her thumb across her friend's cheek.

"I just wanna get out of here." She managed to choke out. Her voice was still ragged; the crying only seemed to make it worse.

Sheriff Pratt stopped her before she got up. "I have paperwork for you to fill out before we release you, Miss…?"

"Names aren't necessary, officer. We won't be here long enough for you to remember. My parents are expecting us in Salt Lake City later today. She'll sign whatever you need us to get the fuck out of here."

"Got one heck of a drive ahead of you, girls." Sheriff Pratt smirked, pulling out a folder and holding it open to the slight little thing in the wooden chair. "Fill these out and sign where all the X's are."

She did as instructed, putting black ink to the paper and melodically filling out the papers, signing her name eloquently when needed. She sniffled and placed the open folder on the mahogany desk. "Done." She said simply.

"Alright Miss…" Harley looked at the paper, eyeing it suspiciously. "Smith? You're free to go. Be careful ladies. Lot's of dangerous things happen out in those canyons."

The girl stumbled painfully out of the chair and followed close behind her friend towards the hallway. "Hey, sweetheart!" She heard the voice, dark and husky, dripping in liquid honey. "I'll be seein' ye."

"In your dreams, you inbred honky hick!" Her loud friend countered, ushering the shuddering girl out of the building.

"Yer gonna regret ye said that, bitch."

* * *

Mac couldn't concentrate on Walter's words as they fell from his lips with a thick accent. He was used to the translations by now, he just didn't want to have to keep up. He was still buzzing from the hits he took last night, just before the truck gave out near the highway and his high compelled him to rip the engine apart, piece by piece.

"You can't be pulling this shit every night, Mac. We have business to tend to. Can't very well keep up with demands if you spend every night in the Sheriff's office. Pratt is wearing thin as it is."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Mac agreed. He had to get his truck on it's way, put the engine back together, and find that little bitch from the cell last night. That bitch was his, and the other girl was gonna pay for what she said. "Ye take me to ma truck. I'll get to work on that order."

"Damn right you will, Mac. You need to get your priorities straight."

But what Walter didn't know was that he already had.

* * *

"You're shaking. Are you sure you're alright?" She showed concern for her friend, looking more and more broken as the moment.

"I'm fine. Really. Just… hung over. Jesus Christ. My head." She took a sip of water and leaned against the door of the motel room.

What she didn't want to say was that she had never felt more alive than last night in that cell. Drunk or not, Mac brought out things in her she had never known were buried deep inside of her. After her long semester at school, her heated breakup, and her struggle with midterms, she realized she had needed a mental and physical break.

* * *

"Fucking fuck!" Mac slammed his hand down on the motor, trying to knock it back into place. That third hit a few minutes ago had fogged his memory and hindered his progress. It was already dark out. He had wasted precious daylight hours.

He snapped a few wires and hoses into place and then raced to the driver's door, turning the key in the ignition and hoping for the best. The engine roared to life and he grinned his sinister grin, proud of all that he had accomplished. He jumped back out long enough to slam the hood shut and then shut the door behind him as he jerked the truck into gear and barreled down the road, hoping he wasn't too late to catch up.

* * *

It was dark before they managed to finish packing and check out. "Finally. Good fucking riddance." Her friend sneered, spotting the sign announcing that they were now leaving Cainville, Utah. "We should get a lawyer, you know? When we get to Salt Lake City? They had no reason to lock you up. Especially with that lunatic." She looked over to the passenger seat and sighed. "You don't look so hot. Should I pull over?"

"No, I'm fine, really."

"We'll stop somewhere soon. I can't drive all night, but I wanna get far away from here before we even think about stopping." She shuddered at the thought. "This place gives me the fucking creeps."

She was so focused on her friend, she didn't notice the truck in the center of her lane, the lights off, but the engine still purring, waiting patiently for their arrival.

Mac smirked to himself, taking one more hit of meth from the tin in the glove compartment, washing it down with Jack and waiting until the headlights from the car down the highway gleamed off of the mile marker sign on the side of the road. Once he saw that glare, he flipped the flood lights on and jerked the car into drive, taking his foot off the brake and pressing hard on the accelerator. The old truck jumped, suddenly flooding with gas and rammed head on into the car with the screaming college girls inside.


	3. Hostage Situation

**This is the final part to this story. I wanted it up sooner, but writing Mac takes a lot of time and effort and the end result is me being absolutely exhausted. I'd rather it be good and thought out than me rushing through it and throwing out some bogus crap. **

**This one's dedicated to all of my Macs Girls out there who don't get near enough Mac Fics. I wanted gore and some crazy fetish smut. I hope that's okay. Also, you guys like suspenseful, cliff hanger endings, right? As always, review and favorite, let me know how you feel. **

**I'll repeat this one more time, for emphasis. This story contains content of a graphic nature including: adult language, drug and alcohol abuse, rape, and illicit sex acts. I also included extremely graphic murder and mutilation. Viewer discretion is advised. **

* * *

The sedan flew backwards, fishtailing and spinning out in the road, finally stopping in the center of the highway, facing the opposite direction. Mac's truck was relatively unscathed, save for a dent in the grill armor and a busted flood light. He jerked the parking brake on and jumped out of the car, grabbed a large wooden bat from the rear window of the truck and made his way to the bent and battered sardine can of a car in front of him.

He could see the airbags had gone off. Other than that, he was in the dark. He sauntered up to the front end of the car. He didn't hesitate to bash in the windshield. Almost immediately, he heard blood curdling screams being emitted from the front seat.

The girls had withstood the impact.

The blood flow instantly surged to the phallus between his narrow hips. He smashed in what was left of the head lights, and then made his way to the passenger's side of the car, demolishing the window and reaching in to entangle his hand in a massive amount of hair, pulling until the girl's nimble body emerged through the window of the vehicle. "Tol' ye I'd be seein' ye, sweetheart." He sneered, dragging the girl kicking and screaming down the highway by nothing but the hair on her head. He threw her in the bed of the truck and grabbed some zip ties from the toolbox, proceeding to hogtie her in place.

When he was satisfied, he walked back to the car, smashed out the driver's side window, and managed to wrestle the loud-mouthed friend out of the car as well, giving her a likewise treatment, but with less resistance. The impact had caused her to smash her nose into the steering wheel. Her entire face was bloody and bruised. "Ye gonna pay fer what ye said, bitch." He mocked her, throwing her beside her friend in the bed of his rusty old pickup. "We're goin' fer a little ride, girls."

He listened to them scream the whole way to the cave, feeding off of their fear. He could barely contain his erection when he pulled up in front of the cave and hauled them one-by-one over his shoulder into the hide-out. He tossed loud mouth in the corner near some empty barrels and beer kegs, leaving the mattress in the corner open for the guest of honor. He cut his girl's feet loose in anticipation of what was to come. As soon as he had, she snapped her legs shut.

The loud mouth began spewing curses once she got accustomed with her surroundings, realizing all too well the horrors they were about to endure. He had abducted them and carried to some sort of crack den. Mac looked over to her and narrowed his eyes. His face broke out in a wicked grin and he sauntered over to her, causing her to suddenly silence her mouth and for her friend to squeal.

"Ye got a mouth on ye." He mumbled, man handling her shoulders and lifting her up. Her feet didn't shift to support herself and he ended up having to kick her legs out like a tripod. "Ain't no use ta me." He ran his hand along her jaw and she snapped at his thumb. He abruptly slapped her hard enough to leave a mark and silence her actions. "I'll teach ta keep that priddy mouth shut, ye little bitch!" He slammed her back into the hard rock wall of the cave, then lifted her body using the wall for support and drug her along until a stainless steel butcher hook was visibly hanging in her peripheral vision. "Hope yer watchin' girl." Mac bellowed, looking towards the girl curled up in the fetal position on the mattress behind him. In a moment's time, he had lifted the screaming girl above the hook and used all his force with the weight of her body and brought the hook into the nape of the girls neck. Her body shook and barely had time to scream before blood gushed from her mouth and down her neck and chest. She twitched a few more times, more involuntary muscle spasms, as her body stilled and silenced.

The girl on the mattress was no longer quiet. Her blood curdling screams echoed off the walls of the cave and mixed with Mac's maniacal laughter. "C'mere girl!" He laughed, pulling her from the mattress and dragging her kicking and screaming to just below the body of her very dead friend. "Ye ever defy me, try ta run 'r sumpthin', and ye'll join yer friend here."

The blood from the girl's shirt started to seep through and dribbled to the ground, splashing on the tanned skin of her former friend, causing the girl to shriek and shake violently trying to disperse the warm, red liquid. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Don' like that?" He laughed, pulling his knife from his back pocket. He plunged the knife into the stomach of the hanging corpse and used all of his strength to drag the knife down. Blood rained down before bits and pieces of internal organs dripped down into the cowering woman's opened mouth, spilling into her nose and drenching her body. She tossed wildly, trying to escape the torrents of blood and guts, coughing and sputtering, trying to expel the foreign substance from her senses.

Mac brought the tip of his steel-toed boot into the chest of the damsel before him, kicking the air from her lungs and sending her into the wall, falling firmly back on her back again. He kicked her legs open before straddling her waist and lowering himself onto her.

Her eyes grew wide when she felt his arousal between her legs. Involuntarily, her body sent a surge of wetness to the apex of her thighs and she tried to wriggle free. Mac planted his palms firmly to her shoulders and pinned her beneath him. She looked around frantically, trying to plan some type of escape, realizing she was at a disadvantage with her arms tied in front of her. She pounded repeatedly at his chest, whimpering pleas of mercy once her eyes spotted the claw marks down the walls behind her. She saw blood and what looked like a human fingernail caked in the red clay.

Mac took her hands and forced them behind her head so she was resting on her arms like a pillow. He brought the tip of his bloody knife to her throat, barely piercing her jugular, but scaring her enough to keep her still. "Don't fuckin' move." He growled. She whimpered, taking a deep breath and trying to still herself. He brought the knife down the length of her body, snaking it between the hills of her breasts before he popped the buttons on her stained blouse. He pushed the linen out of the way and cut the center of her bra open, giving it a similar treatment, exposing her blood smeared chest to him.

Mac lapped at the blood before swirling his tongue around her exposed nipples, one by one. She moaned absent-mindedly and he glanced up at her, smirking knowingly at her expense. This sick, twisted little bitch liked it. She might be saying no, forcing him away, but her body was giving him signals that proved otherwise.

His hand slipped below the denim of her jeans, popped open the button and forcing down the zipper. He rolled back, letting up enough on her rounded, feminine hips to slip the jeans to her feet, wrenching off her boots and jeans. She wriggled beneath him, embarrassed of the sudden exposure, but he forced her thighs apart as he leaned back into her. He could smell her arousal, feel the dampness between her legs. He lapped at the damp cotton, biting down and nipping the skin beneath it before pulling back, tugging the fabric down, exposing her pelvic bones and a tiny tuft of dark curls. He slipped his knife under the fabric, against her hip, and cut it off, throwing the ruined material elsewhere.

He knelt between her legs, breathing in her scent and breathing out causing chills in her fragile body. She moaned out without realizing and quickly silenced herself. She bit down on her lip and watched as he snaked his tongue between her drenched folds and swirled the tip around her clit. She didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting, and in his drug induced rage, he lost it. "Yer gonna fuckin' cum fer ol' Mac and yer gonna fuckin' like it!" He growled, slapping between her legs harshly, causing a sickeningly wet smacking noise before wrapping his lips around her swollen nerve endings and suckling, nipping the area with his teeth before he plunged his thick fingers inside of her tight pussy. She gasped and her hips bucked toward her mouth. He grinned against her wetness, knowing her got the reaction he had wanted. He chuckled against her and she moaned, rolling her hips up to meet his mouth as he pulled away from her, removing his fingers abruptly and moving on to the fastener of his jeans. He wasn't a patient man.

His jeans were growing tight and painful as his dick strained to be closer to her. He wanted to rip her open, feel her tremoring from the inside out and know that it was all for him. He got them open and around his knees. He rolled her over onto her side and wrapped both her knees around his left hip, holding her legs still as he grabbed the zip tie around her wrists and plunged himself inside of her. He was buried deeply, hitting a wall in her confines and making her scream. He pulled out almost completely before shifting his hips and burying himself again. "Fuck!" She squealed, trying to muffle her voice. He quickened his pace until their breathing became erratic and ragged. His balls were smacking against her clit, stimulating every outer nerve as his cock massaged and prodded the inner ones. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions: sickening pleasure colliding with vivid horror, fear, and sorrow. Mac leaned into her. "Say yer mine." He grunted. "Fuckin' say it."

"I - I'm yours." She admitted, quietly. He responded by taking the shell of her ear into what was left of his teeth and baring down. The new angle caused heightened their friction and a few more well-placed plunges sent them both over the edge.

When she had stopped contracting, Mac pulled his flaccid cock from her hemorrhaging confines and fell in the pool of blood beside her. She retracted back into the fetal position and began to cry. "Ye are mine, girl. I take care o' what's mine."

* * *

_"Local authorities are on the lookout for two teenage girls in the Utah area. One, Kayla Melton; age 19, blonde hair, green eyes, believed to be traveling with her roommate: one Taylor Matthews; age 19, light brown hair, hazel eyes. The two were traveling from the University of Southern California to Salt Lake City driving a dark blue Volks Wagen Jetta. If you have any information, please call your local authorities."_

* * *

She sprung forth from the cave at gallop, running with her hands bound in front of her. Her blood soaked blouse billowed in the breeze, her hardened nipples visible and fully exposed. She had managed to find a discarded pair of dirty plaid boxers in an empty pizza box behind the curtain of plastic around the walls. She made it to the barbed wire fence around the pasture of cows before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She kicked behind her, crippling her captor by knocking his balls somewhere deep inside of him and he fell to his knees, breathless. With one last shot of adrenaline, she shimmied herself up the fence.

Mac unsheathed his knife, digging it into her Achilles heal and she screamed, startling the cows, and fell practically into his lap. He caught his breath and picked her up by her hair, dragging her to the familiar red truck and tossing her in the bed. "Naw, sweetheart. Ye ain't gettin' away that easily."


End file.
